The Lost Boys
by Brojled
Summary: Everything is going perfectly for Booth and Bones.  A little too perfectly... A crime story with the all the characters we love.  Suspense and mayhem added for your reading pleasure.
1. Chapter 1

The Lost Boys

Chapter One

The boy ran as fast as his feet would carry him. He could hear the crashing of the brush behind him. He knew his predator was gaining on him, but he didn't stop, didn't slow down. He tried to remember everything his dad had taught him about self defense, but his mind was going as fast as his sneakers. He couldn't remember, his instincts told him he had to run. His dad had schooled him in what to do if he was ever in trouble, but right now there was no one to hear him scream for help. Only the person he was trying to get away from.

His lungs burned, his mind was scrambled. He ran. Not paying any attention to the tree branches scratching his bare arms and face. Not paying attention to the fact he was running deeper into the bush, not towards the road like he thought he was. In his fear addled brain, he knew getting to road meant safety. And safety meant everything to him right now. Safety meant seeing his mom and dad again. And everyone else he cared about.

Before he could stop himself, his foot snagged on a tree root and he crashed hard into the ground. What breath was left in him was expelled in a ferocious blow. He lay still. His heart pounding in his ears. He heard the running footsteps behind him approach and slow down. He knew he was caught. He gasped out, "I tried Dad. I really tried."

The man doing the chasing stood beside the boy for some time, catching his own breath. Knowing that he wasn't going to do any more running just now. He had his prey. He bent down until his stinking breath was on the boy's face.

"Okay you little shit. I told you not to run away from me. Now you're going to pay."

He picked up a broken tree branch and swung it hard at the boy's head. The man smirked at the satisfying thunk it made and he watched all consciousness leave the boy's eyes. He spat on the ground, clearing his mouth of the fetid taste of the chase. He picked the boy up and flung him over his shoulder, trying to recall the direction they had come and how to get back to his cabin, deep in the woods. This one had a lot of energy. Perfect for the work he needed done. He just had to find a way to kill his spirit. Easy enough if any of the other boys were any indication…

The boy never made a sound as the man picked his way back through the forest.

A couple sat at the table in their kitchen. The man watched his significant other pick through her breakfast and tried not to wretch.

"Okay, Bones, so what is it exactly that you are feeding our daughter this morning?"

She smiled through her full mouth at him. She was tempted to open her mouth and show him the masticated remains of the bite she had taken, but he looked slightly green enough already. She spared him the indignity.

"Do you really want to know?" Her smile faded slightly as she swallowed, but then took on a teasing note.

The teasing note that he had come to love so much in these last months. It seemed he had finally broken down her walls, and there she sat exposed, emotionally, before him. He loved how relaxed she was with him now. How playful she was. How completely Bones she was. He loved everything about her. And now she knew it, and felt the same way about him. He had never felt so lucky, and he knew then, as he did always, that the road to their happiness was worth the journey.

"No. I really don't." He smiled back at her. His dark brown eyes full of love.

"I didn't think so." She took another handful off of her plate and shoveled it into her mouth, but one bit fell to the table and squirmed its way onto the floor.

"That's it. I can't watch this anymore. I have to get to the office. I'm sure I can find some old autopsy pictures more appetizing than this" He put down the paper he had been reading and stood up. She laughed.

"What Booth? A lot of pregnant women in certain Amazonian tribes eat grubs. They're high in protein and a source of many essential nutrients. I don't see what you're all twisted about. It's good for the fetus."

He bent over her and kissed her forehead.

"She won't be a fetus much longer Bones. Just a few more weeks." He set his hand on her impossibly big belly and felt the flurry of activity beneath his fingers. His heart swelled with pride and love. "Do I even want to know where you got those?"

He knew the answer before she said it.

"Hodgins." The both said it in unison and laughed.

"You're in my head Booth," she took his hand and kissed his fingers.

"I don't dare get in your head Bones. I'd probably never find my way out." He winked at her and reached for his jacket. "I'll see you for lunch?"

"I look forward to it."

He looked away as she reached for another handful.

Booth sat as his desk, pretending to be a little bit interested in the heap of paperwork before him. He was not. His thoughts kept straying back to Bones and what she was doing now. He wished she would take the final weeks of her pregnancy off work, to relax and take it easy, but he knew it was not going to happen. One of the things he loved about her so much was her dedication. Sometimes he wished she would be a little bit more normal, and do some nesting. He laughed to himself. What was he thinking? Bones was as normal as she was ever going to be. He didn't want normal. He just wanted her. And their daughter to be born healthy. He couldn't wait to meet that little girl. He already felt so complete, just knowing she existed. He was a very lucky man.

When he looked up from his desk, he was startled to see Dr. Sweets sitting across from him, casually leaning his face on one hand, elbow on knee, and legs crossed. He made it appear he had been there for some time. He had that analyzing-psychologist look about him. The look that Booth hated.

"Good morning Agent Booth. What has you so engrossed that you didn't even hear me come in? Wait, don't tell me, and let me guess. "

"Have you ever heard of knocking? You shouldn't sneak up on a man with a gun. People get shot doing things like that." Booth grumbled at him. He made the show of stacking the papers in front of him in an orderly fashion, all the time attempting to glare at the younger man.

"I did knock. And I said hello three times, but apparently you're so deep in your thoughts you're losing your skills. You're getting old Agent Booth. It's okay though, if and when you decide it's time to retire your badge, there are a number of new recruits who would be more than willing to fill your shoes."

Booth was ready to unleash a tirade on him, but caught the half-smile of Sweets before the words came out.

"You're funny there Sweets. I'll never retire. I'll be 90 years old and still driving your ass around to cases. Unless by then, you're big enough to see over the wheel. But I won't hold my breath on that."

"I would drive if you would let me. I have my license you know. I'm actually a very good driver."

Sweets' argument was cut off by the ringing of Booth's cell phone. The FBI agent shushed him with an upraised finger and was silent while the person on the other end of the phone obviously did all the talking.

"Text me the address and we're on our way." Was all he said, and he immediately reached for his jacket, which was slung on the back of his chair. "Come on baby Duck. We've got a case."

"I really wish you would stop calling me that Agent Booth. It's beneath me. I am a Doctor you know. With years of experience in the psychological field and I know that your petty jokes about my age are just an attempt to cover up your insecurities about your own advancing age."

Booth looked at him for a minute. Sweets was afraid for just a few seconds that maybe he had gone too far.

"You know Sweets; I could use a cup of coffee before we go. I'd get you one but it might keep you up past your bedtime." He turned on one foot and left the office.

"I can drink coffee, and I don't have a bedtime." Sweets murmured as he followed the Agent down the hallway.

In the car, on the way, Sweets continued to watch the dark haired man. He wasn't saying much, which wasn't odd these days. Booth had a lot on his mind and like always, he tended to keep it to himself. The younger man tried to think of a random topic to discuss, but Booth had his game-face on. He was already at the crime scene in his mind and doing the initial sweep for information. Or he was picturing Bones leaned over the body, knee deep in muck, analyzing everything she could about the crime scene. Sweets smiled to himself. Those two had more in common than either of them knew. And their worries of having nothing alike in their mindsets was a worry long past. He was very happy for the two of them. They seemed to be doing very well with their relationship.

Booth's phone rang again. He answered it.

"What are you talking about Rebecca? What do you mean he's not home? Where is he?" Sweets watched as Booth's jaw grinded. His tell for when something was stressing him out.

"He snuck out last night? What are you talking about?" Booth was silent for a minute while his ex explained something. "Well when he gets back, tell him he's in deep trouble. I hope you don't let him get away with this."

Sweets could hear Rebecca's voice growing in pitch over the phone, but he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying. Booth's jaw bone was grinding at an extreme rate.

"I can't really discuss this right now. I'm at work. I'll stop by when I have a free moment and talk to him. No, Rebecca, I promise. This won't happen again. I have to go." Booth clicked off his phone and tossed in on the console with more force than necessary.

"Anything the matter Agent Booth?" Sweets tried to cut the tension in the car.

"No. Everything is just great." The sarcasm was obvious.

"If it's anything you want to talk about, I'm here for you. You know that."

Booth said nothing.

They got to the crime scene, which had already been partitioned off by police tape. It was a heavily wooded area just outside of the city limits. There were a number of police officials mulling around, obviously looking for traces of anything that could be evidence. Booth was surprised to see Cam heading the investigation. He headed towards her.

"Where's Bones?" Was the first question he asked.

"Hello Seeley. She asked me to handle this one. She was just feeling a bit off this morning. Nothing to worry about." Cam added the last bit when she saw the look on the tall man's face. He went stone faced only a second later, and if Cam didn't know any better, she would have thought she imagined the moment of panic. She knew him too well, and knew he went into professional mode very quickly.

"What have we got here?"

She was right. All business now. No lingering thoughts on Bones. At least not outwardly.

"Initial findings are the victim is a Caucasian male, age ten to fifteen. Cause of death is uncertain, but it looks like blunt force trauma to the head. We know he wasn't killed here, this was just the dump site."

"How do you know that?" Booth interrupted.

"Because he's frozen solid. He's been stored somewhere and dumped here recently. The man who owns this property walks past here every day and yesterday he saw nothing. He's over there if you want to question him." Cam pointed in the direction of a gruff looking man who was holding a small dog on a leash.

"I'll do that in a second. Do we know the identity?"

"No. He was completely nude, except for a pair of shoes. The only thing is the shoes don't look like his. They look too big, and they were put on the body after he had been frozen. If you look at his feet, they're not frozen to the shoes. It's very bizarre."

"It could be some kind of message, or perhaps a calling card of the killer." Sweets piped up from where he had been standing, just behind agent Booth.

Cam and Booth both looked at him.

"We'll take him back to the lab and see what we can find out." Cam told both the men. She knew nothing more could be determined from there, and she had the feeling she wanted to get this boy back to the lab and warm him up. The poor thing looked so cold and alone. Somewhere he had a family who was missing him, and she owed them the right to know what had happened.

"Test those shoes especially. If they're not his, we need to know why they were put on the body." Booth looked a little more closely at them. "Parker has a pair just like that. All the kids are wearing them these days. I think even Sweets has a pair."

Sweets ignored the verbal jab at himself and looked around the crime scene. He stared at the man who had found the body. He looked positively traumatized. His initial observation led him to believe that the man had nothing to do with the boy's death. But he had some questions he would like to ask. He turned back to Agent Booth to see if now was a good time to go talk to the man, but Booth's phone rang from his pocket.

Sweets watched as Booth's face turned pale and a noticeable twitch occurred in his eye.

Booth hung up the phone. And just stood there, catatonic for a few seconds.

"Seeley, what is it?" Cam stood up and put her hand on his arm. "Is something wrong?"

Her touch snapped him back.

"That was Angela. Bones' water broke a few minutes ago. We're having a baby!"

"Then go!" Both Sweets and Cam yelled at him.

Before they could say another word, he was sprinting to his vehicle.

"I wonder if I should start booking appointments for them now." Sweets quipped to Cam. "Their life is about to get a whole lot crazier."

Cam smiled. She feared this was true.


	2. Chapter 2

The boys lay quietly in their prison. It was a reinforced shed on the property of the man who held them there but they weren't given the honor of being above ground; they were in the dugout underneath the shed. The door was securely locked by a number of means and escape was impossible. The boys had been trying since the days they were brought there. One by one their number grew until their new guardian felt he had an adequate work force. They had all arrived within a matter of weeks from the first one.

The first boy who had been taken had been there about 6 months. He was the self appointed leader of the newcomers, he was Number One. His name had been taken and replaced by a number and each boy after was given a sequential number. Right now there was no number seven. They were on their third number seven as the previous two boys with that moniker had been killed. The first was by an accidental overdose by their master, the other because he refused to obey the rules. Here, in their new world, number seven didn't seem so lucky at all.

They knew someone new was coming to join them and every single one of them died a little bit more inside knowing another boy was about to be caught by the man who held them all. They knew when the man had killed the previous boy that he would be finding a replacement for him, and soon. There was an empty space on the assembly line, and as much as they all hated the fact that another boy was doomed to the same fate as them, they knew their workload would be a little bit easier the next few days. Until the master lost his temper and killed another one of them. They all wondered who it would be next. It could be any one of them.

They had been conditioned quickly by their holder. No talking. Just do the job he demanded of them and maybe they would get to eat that night. Maybe they wouldn't be drugged into submission. Maybe they wouldn't be beaten. Maybe their families wouldn't be hurt. Their existence had become a lottery of maybes.

The boy nearest the secured door listened all day for the truck to return. Until then, they knew they had the freedom to talk amongst themselves. At least the ones who weren't deep in an exhausted coma or the ones who hadn't been drugged into the same coma. Drugged for some real or imagined infraction against the Master's rules. There were nine of them in there now. There were usually ten. By tomorrow morning, they all knew there would be ten; the Master had warned them he was on the hunt.

This time they were talking about all the foods they missed, and how hungry they were. How they all wished that someday soon they could eat until they were full, not nibble on the scant food they were given, hoping it would last.

One boy near the middle of the group took the advantage of the free time to cry softly about how much he missed his mother. Not a single one of the other boys teased him about it, or denied him the privilege. It was something the Master was strict about. No crying. Of any kind. He wouldn't tolerate any form of weakness. He didn't keep them there to coddle them. He kept them there to make men of them. And teach their spoiled little asses what a hard day of work really meant. The oldest boy was fifteen. Hardly the age to be learning such lessons.

The boy nearest the door had one ear to Number Three, who was talking about Thanksgiving dinner, with all the trimmings, and one ear to the door, listening for the return of the truck. Right as the other boy's story was approaching dessert, pumpkin pie with cool whipped cream and cinnamon hot chocolate; he heard the dreaded sound of tires on gravel.

"Shut up guys. He's back!" Was all he had to say and silence reigned their dwelling. By the time the truck came to a stop, they could all hear the vehicle door open and shut, and the heavy steps of the man on the pebbled ground. They all heard a door open again and two lighter feet hit the ground. Every one of the boys heard the solid thump and the holler and then the lighter feet take off in a run. There was a mutual intake of breath from the holding as they heard the man yell out.

"Don't you try to run you little shit! When I catch you there will be hell!"

The lighter steps changed in resonance as they went from gravel to woods, and they faded away quickly. The man obviously took off after the new recruit and his steps faded from their earshot as quickly. They all hoped the new boy would make a dash for his life and get away. They all hoped he would get away and somehow manage to get to the police and tell of how he had been taken and that the authorities would come and find them and take them all home. Every boy in captivity hoped for this, and in their heads cheered the unknown boy on.

Their hopes were dashed about an hour later, when they heard the heavy steps of the man returning. They heard the thud outside as something heavy was dropped outside of the door to their prison. It was a few minutes as the man walked away and then returned. He jingled the keys for a few seconds, searching for the right ones, and managed to get the door open. He kicked the legs of the boy by the door in an unspoken command to get out of the way. The boy did his best, but there was not a lot of room to move.

A body was tossed in on top of them with a loud grunt followed by the loud crash of a metal tin hitting the back of their enclosure.

The man stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the outside light and said nothing for a few minutes. His grumbling voice finally broke the silence.

"One of you little maggots tend to this little piece of shit. He's got a cut on his head and a bit of a bump. If he dies you're all going to pay. I want him ready for work in the morning. I want all of you ready. We've got catching up to do. If he's not ready to work, none of you eat for a week."

With that threat, he slammed the door shut, and they all sat in perfect silence while they listened to him walk a short distance away and open the creaky door to the freezer upstairs in the shed, where they knew he had put Number Seven after he died a few days ago. A strange coffin for the dark haired boy who had been their unexpected friend. They would all remember his face until they day they died. Not one of them knew how many days that would be.

When the truck had driven away and been gone for some time, Number Four fumbled in the dark for the pocket flashlight he had stolen from the man. He clicked it on and they all stared at the new boy for some time. No one said a word, yet all of them were just a little bit sad that a new captive was amongst them. At the same time, it brought some form of discovery and wonder to their now-mundane existence. Who was this boy? Where had he come from? What was his story?

The new boy had curly, sandy-blonde hair. He looked like any other boy they would have seen anywhere. Number One approached him, scuffling on his knees, and shook his shoulder gently.

"Hey man! Wake up!"

The blonde boy stirred only gently.

Number One shook him a little harder. When he got no response, he turned the boy over gently and they all saw the fresh blood matting the hair on the back of his head. They all helped, in the best way they could, to clean up his wound with the makeshift first-aid kit their master had thrown in the room. The boy had a nasty bump on his head.

As Number One cleaned the cut, he might have applied a little bit too much pressure and the boy's eyes shot open and he tried to get up in a panic. He flung his arms around striking those of them nearest to him, before they got him under control.

"Where am I?" The boy's raspy voice broke the silence. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

No one knew how to answer any of those questions. They were all still wondering themselves.

"What's your name?" Number One asked him after nobody made an effort to answer any of the questions out loud.

"My name is Parker. Where am I?"

"Parker. That's a funny name. Is that your first name or your last name? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Well, Parker, your new name is Number Seven. Welcome to Hell."

Dr. Brennan stood in Limbo, cataloguing some new bones that had been brought in within the last week. She had some spare time, so she thought she would start some initial analysis in helping to identify the remains. She was their last chance to avoid anonymity forever. She was their last chance to have their identity restored. She picked up a femur bone from the first crate and knew instantly that the bones were at least one hundred years old. This person would not be easy to identify. She loved a good challenge.

She felt a strain against her abdomen, a pain in her lower back and a tingling in her legs and arms. She had been feeling off since her unorthodox breakfast that morning. Her stomach felt a bit upset and she was feeling a bit dizzy. She hadn't told anyone, particularly Booth, knowing they would just worry unnecessarily about her. She was in the final stages of gestation. There was bound to be a few discomforts. She was sure it was nothing to worry about. Women had been doing this since the beginning of time.

She was glad that Cam had offered to go out to the field today to bring back the body they had been called about. In her years of experience, she had finally accepted that it was okay to have some help from time to time. And Doctor Saroyan was as able as she was to start the investigation. Though, once the body was brought back, Bones knew she was going to take over. She was definitely more qualified from that point on. If only the feeling of unease would subside.

Angela snuck up behind her husband and poked him in the ribs. He barely turned his head in response.

"Hey Ange. What's up?" His head was bent over an aquarium of sorts and he had his safety glasses on.

Angela suspected he was up to something she didn't want to know about. She asked anyway.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm just making sure the tank is inescapable for my new little beauties."

"Really. How fascinating. Do I even want to know what you are hatching now?"

He turned his head to look at her; the familiar sound of sarcastic teasing was in her voice.

"Oh you know they can never compare to your beauty. You leave me breathless and in awe. These guys pale in comparison to you."

"Nice save, "she laughed, "But seriously, what are you up to?"

"My friend sent me some new insect samples. Paraponera Clavata. In the larvae stage. Fascinating little guys. But we don't want them escaping once they hatch. Their sting is said to feel like a bullet piercing your body." He leaned back towards the tank, making sure the lid sealed completely.

He stood up and went to the table behind him and picked up a package labeled "Live Specimen- Handle with care" and turned back to Angela with a huge smile.

"Would you like to see the big unveiling? It can be pretty spectacular!"

"I'm just glad you do this stuff here, not at home. We don't need our son putting these things in his mouth. You know he would so do it. He puts everything in his mouth."

"These guys would be very bad to put in your mouth. Trust me."

He opened the box and pulled out an aerated package and cut it open. Angela held open the lid of the tank while he shook the package of grubs into their new home.

The little beasts squirmed around rather anti-climactically and then were still.

"Nice unveiling Hon. I guess the parade will be later then?" Angela laughed at the look on his face.

"Well, I guess it wasn't that exciting. But still. Look at these little guys. Actually, wait a minute. Look at these little guys." He picked one of the grubs up with his tweezers and looked at it closely.

He carefully carried it over to his microscope, putting it on a slide and looked through the eye piece.

"This can't be right."

Angela wondered what he meant as he went over to his computer and quickly tapped something into the search engine. The look on his face went from curiosity to horror.

"What Hodgins? What is it?" She knew something was clearly not right.

"These guys aren't Paraponera Clavata, they're Myrmelachista Schumani. The larvae of the Lemon Ant. The packages were labelled wrong! OH NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" He continued his denial as he ran from the office. Angela had no choice but to follow him if she wanted answers.

He ran down the corridors and across the main examining lounge of the Lab asking everyone he passed if they had seen Doctor Brennan. Someone finally told him she had last been seen in Limbo. He raced off in that direction, Angela close on his heels; everyone wondered what his panic was.

He burst into the room and saw Bones leaning on the table. She had a distressed look on her face. Angela ran to her friend's side.

"Doctor Brennan! What did you do with those grubs I gave you yesterday?" He asked her in a hurried panic.

She turned her head to look at him. There was a look in her eyes he had never seen before.

"I ate them this morning. I'm not feeling so well right now. My legs are feeling numb," she turned to look at Angela, but before she could say anything else she cried out. "I think my water may have just broken. Please call Booth!"

"Oh no!" Hodgins summed it up.

Booth raced to his vehicle, a million different thoughts and emotions plaguing him all at once. Terror and excitement all wrapped up into one. Their baby girl was on her way. A few weeks early, but that was nothing to get worried over. He was certain she would be healthy.

He sped away at breakneck speeds, his sirens and lights on at full impulse. His driving was slightly erratic but he barely noticed. He would get there in time.

His phone rang and he answered it, thinking it would be Bones. It wasn't. It was Rebecca.

"Seeley? I need to you to come over right away. Parker still isn't home, and he didn't go to school either. He's missing and I'm freaking out over here. I need you to hurry, please! I'm really worried."

Booth was at an intersection and suddenly he didn't know if he should turn left or right...

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